The Private Affairs Of Lady Jane Fielding (6 page)

***

The day progressed genially indeed. We supped in the gardens for the weather was most clement, and the grounds in magnificent bloom. Our daughters and their Nanny played on the undulating lawns, their shrieks and laughter like a bird song. The men drank ale, whilst I sipped lemonade. I noticed Matthew’s eyes linger with uncommon frequency upon our daughters, a sadness dimming the brightness of his ever-dancing gaze.

‘I do so envy you, Jacob,’ Matthew muttered eventually.

The men had partaken of several ales, and were close to falling in their cups. A circumstance I believe was premeditated by my shrewd husband.

Jacob did not respond, thankfully. There were multiple reasons an impoverished gentry-man such as Matthew Fielding would envy Jacob, his title and his lands.

‘Would that I could be married one day,’ he sighed, and took a long draft of ale, which I noticed was swiftly refilled. ‘Ah, but it is not for the likes of me, I suppose.’

Again, both Jacob and I remained quiescent, for there was naught we could say that would not offend. Matthew could not afford a wife, unless he happened to come across a rich one willing to marry into the poor branch of an otherwise very wealthy family.

I felt my heart tighten for him — was it fair that a letch like Arthur could marry and the good, kind Matthew could not? It seemed a cruel twist of fate.

There was a long lull in conversation, and for a time we watched the children play about the gardens. Watching children is an amusing occupation, and I observed Matthew’s lip curl into a slight smile when Lucy scrambled into the flower bed as she scampered after the ball. Nanny cried out in dismay, and he laughed softly under his breath.

Eventually, Jacob interrupted the silence. ‘Matthew, did you hear of my accident in London?’

Matthew’s expression darkened and his gaze, so similar to my husband’s, returned and flickered over me a discreet moment. ‘Indeed, I was very sorry to hear it. Yet, here you are, well as ever.’

It was Jacob’s time to laugh bitterly now. ‘Not quite,’ he replied.

Matthew raised an eyebrow. ‘You look well enough to me.’

‘I can no longer sire children,’ Jacob said with the abruptness of weapon fire.

The teasing expression disappeared from Matthew’s face in an instant. He choked with a considered lack of grace on his ale, spitting it out upon the green grass as he did.

‘My hearing must be impaired, I thought you said…’ He fell silent, too polite to continue, then he laughed with great awkwardness.

‘There is nothing wrong with your hearing, Matthew, I cannot sire any more children.’

Matthew fell silent, clearly struggling to find an appropriate riposte, and failing.

My face reddened. How dare Jacob discuss this matter with his cousin before me? Could he not fathom my embarrassment? Was he in some way wishing to humiliate me? I could not believe my beloved Jacob would do such a thing, yet, here he was about to discuss our most intimate affairs with a man he had not spoken to in years!

I stood abruptly. ‘I will take my leave, gentlemen. Whatever discussion you are to have clearly does not befit gentle ears. I bid you good day.’ I took my parasol and stood, knocking my unfinished lemonade to the ground in haste.

Jacob made to grasp my hand, but I moved from his reach.

‘Janie, do not go. This is a discussion that necessitates your presence.’ His eyes were imploring, yet I had no sympathy. I could not agree to this plan, ever. Though Matthew was undoubtedly a handsome man, and one any woman would be pleased to have in her bed, I was married,
happily
married to my husband. I sought no lover! I wanted no lover! I had my husband, and though I desperately wanted a son for our family, I would not lower myself to what he suggested. I simply could not! Have Matthew sire a son on me? It was a sin, a wicked thing indeed. I would not lie with a man other than my husband, I could not!

‘No,’ I whispered, ‘have I not already made myself clear on this matter?’

‘Jane…’ he called, but I made to leave. I could not stay; my ears were burning, my heart was pounding. Tears began to sting my eyes.

I saw Matthew’s horrified and perplexed gaze and I begged his forgiveness for my rudeness.

I
still
cannot believe Jacob plans to go through with his wicked idea.

I fled then to the house, and locked myself in my room. Would he continue to tell Matthew his foul plan?

***

I refused to partake of the evening meal with the men. I ate in my rooms and spent time with our daughters before retiring to my bed. It was very late in the evening when Jacob finally returned to me.

His mood was dark, and he’d clearly partaken too much ale, wine, whisky, porter or perhaps too much of all.

‘Janie, Janie,’ he murmured, and I felt his weight sink upon the bed next to me.

‘Did you discuss your
matters
with him?’ I did not hesitate to accuse. I had not slept at all, despite having retired hours ago.

‘Of course I did.’ Jacob fell onto the bed now, his head colliding with my pillow and pushing me aside.

My heart sank. ‘And how did he respond?’

‘Ah, and there is the crux of it,’ Jacob murmured, and pulled me close to him. His body was warm, though still fully clothed.

‘And?’ I pressed.

‘He was as shocked and appalled as you.’ He sighed heavily, but his hand moved across my body and squeezed my breast. Despite my irritation with the circumstances I felt my treacherous loins tighten.

‘What did he say, precisely?’ I rolled to face him and swiftly found my face caught in his hands, and his lips upon my own.

I reluctantly kissed him back. He tasted smoky and potent, like the cigars he loved to share with guests.

‘It was difficult to get him to speak on the matter.’ Jacob’s hand roved beneath the blankets and insinuated between my thighs. I gasped, as his hand found my secret heat.

It has long amazed me how one mere touch or one glance from my husband can turn my womanhood to water.

I heard a groan, and realised it had broken unbidden from my own mouth.

‘Once I had explained the situation to him, he was somewhat more agreeable to it.’

Anger filled me and I wrenched his hand from my thighs. ‘Agreeable to it?’ My skin turned cold.

Jacob groped drunkenly at me once more, but I shifted away.

Thus he continued. ‘Matthew’s house is falling down around his ears, so great is his lack of funds. I have offered him assistance, if he…’

‘Oh, this is too vulgar,’ I gasped. ‘You intend on
paying
your cousin to…to…fornicate with me!’

‘Your words repeat those of my cousin. He said much the same, though perhaps in a more savage manner. So I did explain to him the situation with Arthur, and upon hearing it, he became somewhat more amenable to the plan. He doesn’t want my title to fall into Arthur’s hands either, darling. I have worked damnably hard to restore this estate to its current condition, and I’ll be damned if I shall let Arthur ruin it. Matthew is no fool, he knows what manner of man Arthur is; after all,
he
shared his childhood with the rake, too.’

Although I understood the need for action against Arthur receiving the inheritance, I simply could not agree to this. Could I?

Yet wickedly, some part of me was curiously titillated by the suggestion, though I would never dare to admit it.

‘Do I have no say in this matter?’ I cried, sitting up. The candles flickered around us and Jacob sank his head back into the pillow with a groan laced with port.

‘What kind of man do you think me, Janie? Of course you do, this whole thing hinges upon your agreement. Do you think I’d have my cousin molest you? Do you think Matthew would dare touch you without your consent? Do you think so little of us? Devil take it! You’re my wife!’

My heart seemed to tighten. My mind flooded with wild memories of our most intimate moments. To share my body, my quim, with another man was wrong, was it not? ‘Yes! I
am
your wife, I would have no man but you. I vowed it before God!’

‘If it’s the Lord’s wrath you fear, then ponder this, Jane. What do you think Arthur would do with this estate? How do you think the people who depend on Fielding for their livelihoods shall fare under Arthur? Do you think the good Lord would have them suffer unduly because of a vow you made? A vow that will prevent you providing the heir this estate so desperately needs?’

I felt tears burn in my eyes. ‘You’re suggesting I part my legs for Matthew and breed with him! It is outrageous.’

‘Dear God, Janie! Do you think this is easy for me? I don’t want him to have you!’ Jacob cried. ‘Do you think I cherish the notion of my cousin rogering my wife? Have you any idea what the thought of it does to me?’

I confess, I hadn’t any idea. I’d never considered it.

‘What does it do to you?’ I asked, my voice tremulous.

Jacob’s voice broke. ‘It makes me feel less of a man than I already am. I can’t get you with child since that damnable accident. I can’t provide an heir for Fielding without Matthew. My love, I want to protect
you
and in some twisted wicked way, this will. Don’t you realise, this isn’t simply about the inheritance of the estate and continuance of our line. If anything foul befell me and I died,
you
will be placed under the care of Arthur. We can’t let that happen.’

There, he had said it
. We had never explicitly spoken the thought out aloud, for we’d always believed we’d have a son to care for a dowager mother, but if there was no son, and something
did
happen to my husband…I would fall into Arthur’s dastardly hands. I tried ardently to suppress the very notion, as if merely thinking it could will it so.

‘But nothing is going to happen to you!’

He gave a short, sorry laugh. ‘I hadn’t planned to get kicked in the crotch and be made half a man either.’

‘Do not speak so! I love you, Jacob,’ I whispered, and kissed him, and though I was not confirmed in my decision to go along with this terrible plan, our argument had given me much to think upon.

However, it was not thinking that Jacob intended for me.

‘Let Matthew and I protect you,’ he murmured, and his fingers fumbled at the ties of my night dress, exposing my breasts. With almost reverence he kissed the hardened tips of each one. My body constricted, and I found myself pondering how Matthew’s lips would feel against my skin.

Would they be as soft as Jacob’s?

Such thoughts were not fitting of a lady…and yet.

His hand parted my slack thighs, and caressed the lips of my womanhood. I arched towards him, mine own hands reaching for the buttons of Jacob’s breeches.

I pondered again, how Matthew’s phallus might feel beneath my hands. My hand found the heated flesh of Jacob’s staff, partially turgid. I ran my hand over the ruddy, fast swelling head. Would Matthew’s manhood be larger than my husband’s? Smaller perhaps? Heaven forbid, a wider girth maybe? Would he buck like a stallion in rut, or would he be slow and cautious?

I confess these curious thoughts made my sex slicken further and a lusty groan escaped me. Jacob’s hand moved again over that sweet spot and I shuddered.

How many lovers had Matthew had? Would he be skilled in the arts I adored to indulge in with my husband? In my mind’s eye I imagined Matthew moving over me, slipping himself between my thighs.

I sobbed. What new wickedness was taking over me?

‘Inside, I need…’

There was no chance I could speak more cogently than that.

Jacob moved atop me, the weight of him pushing further into the soft mattress. I gasped, a sound of pure need escaping my lips.

Then I felt him, the hot head of his manhood nudging the open, wet gates of my sex.

‘You torture me,’ I breathed, my lips kissing his neck in clear invitation.

Within a moment he sheathed himself in me, and I felt the breath rush from my chest. My sex was pierced and rent wide by the girth of his manhood. I cried in pleasure. For a time, he hesitated and as one we relished the intimacy of our joining. My quim was tight round his staff, and I could feel him pulsing, waiting within me. After another moment, my body was seeping dew with the need for more. I writhed beneath him, a sure invitation for him to begin our rut in earnest. As ever, Jacob obliged me, and with slick, purposeful motions he began to move. My body shuddered as he withdrew and forced his re-entry with hard, swift movements. As his pace increased, he suddenly stilled, and moved so as to kneel and rut between my splayed thighs.

‘I must see your face,’ he whispered, spreading my knees further and lowering his hands to my backside. He gripped the flesh mounds of my rear tightly, so much so I uttered a surprised cry. Then, without further preamble he lunged forwards, impaling me at a greater depth than before.

I heard Jacob mutter a profanity underneath his breath as he lunged again, gripping my posterior and wrenching the flesh apart in his enthusiasm.

I gasped. I did so relish the sensation of his hard hands upon my rear. My husband’s eyes watched me, a frown of concentration across his face. His hands moved again. A finger found that rude and naughty place betwixt my buttocks.

‘Yes,’ I cried, as he pressed forth.

He laughed. ‘Minx,’ and I found myself impaled in both places.

‘Jacob,’ I cried, feeling that peculiar, magical tightening deep in the region of my womb, ‘don’t stop.’

Devout to my word as always, he did not falter, but continued his ruthless plunging until my body felt full, fit to burst. My belly tightened once more and Jacob afforded me a final, lusty thrust before I reached completion beneath him.

His eyes widened, and I felt his body tense before he uttered a guttural cry and shuddered in his own exclamation of passion.

We remained entwined as such, a few goodly minutes before the chill of the evening air sent a cloak of gooseflesh over me.

‘Janie, how I love you,’ Jacob murmured.

‘Not nearly as much as I love you,’ was my familiar riposte.

He laughed, but his expression sobered presently. ‘You will consider this plan, won’t you, Jane?’

I sighed, and watched him withdraw from my body. I knew from bitter experience he no longer spilled much seed within me.